Rebel's Way
by mobbyrules
Summary: After a duel goes awry and her identity is revealed, Alanna is sent home to Trebond in disgrace. But her journey home takes a direction that nobody planned. With intrigue in the air will she be able to return to Tortall and restore her good name? And will she want to? Note: This story takes place in the year 436, just before Alanna's 17th birthday.
1. A Duel Gone Wrong

Disclaimer: Much as I wish I did, I do not own any of the characters or places in this story. They belong to Tamora Pierce.

Right. Well, first chapter up. I'm sorry it's not very long and I'll try to make my later chapters longer. Hope everybody likes this!

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**Chapter One**

Alanna sat staring into space. A gentle breeze wafted past, ruffling her short red hair. She glowered, and attempted to hold it down, but wisps managed to escape her grasp and drift across her face. Her hair was getting a bit too long for comfort and would need to be trimmed soon, at least before her friends noticed. Alanna's eyebrows lowered at the thought, and her purple eyes glinted dangerously. The last time Coram had tried to cut her hair, he'd cut it so short she despaired of it ever growing back. There was no way she would let him near her with scissors again, not in a million years.

"Alan!" Hearing the familiar voice of Alexander of Tirrigan, she struggled to suppress a groan and plastered a smile on her face. Today really wasn't going well for her. She definitely wasn't in the mood to duel. For some reason Alex had begun to challenge her constantly about a week ago, and she had taken to hiding in corners just to escape fighting him.

"Hi, Alex," she replied through gritted teeth, smile still firmly in place_. Please let him want to borrow some books_, she thought to herself, _just for once let him be disorganised._

"I saw you here all alone and I thought…well…I thought you might want to duel. It's the perfect day for it. So what do you say? Shall we?"

There was no way Alanna could refuse. She couldn't think of any good excuses and there was nobody around to rescue her. Her knight-master, Jonathan of Conte, was out hunting bandits, so there was no chance there either. Grimly, she nodded and stood up. "Right. Fine."

Alex smiled and gestured for her to follow him. "I thought we could try dueling with proper swords for once." He added casually as they strode across the courtyard. "What with you being in your third year as a squire now. I mean, we're both able to handle ourselves pretty well, aren't we?"

Things had just gone from bad to worse, and Faithful wasn't around to caution her or give her advice. Ever since their last "duel" Alanna had been wary of Alex. The recent bouts she could handle, as her friends were always around to watch them, but this, this was something else. Now they'd be dueling with proper blades and there'd be no one around to stop Alex if he got dangerous. She was about to open her mouth to tell him in no uncertain terms exactly what she thought of the idea when natural competitiveness got in the way. Maybe this time she might beat him. Berating herself for it she nodded again. "Yeah, I guess we are."

"Excellent." Alex smiled again, but this time Alanna noticed that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Warning bells pealed inside her head but she chose to ignore them. _I'm probably just seeing things_, she thought.

Reaching the practice courts, she went over to one side and began stretching. From the corner of her eye, Alanna could see Alex doing the same. Finishing the stretches, she drew Lightning and checked the edge for flaws. As usual, there were none, and she made her way to the centre of the court where Alex was already waiting.

Both swung their swords up to the guard position and moved their weight onto the balls of their feet. Alex began with a simple feint, designed to test Alanna's reflexes. She ignored it and launched a riposte of her own. Alex blocked it easily. A grim smile edged its way onto his face. His limbs were relaxed, his shoulders down. He took a step back, waiting, daring her to attack.

She did, but cautiously. Feinting towards his head, she took a sidestep and swiped at his feet. He dodged with ease and responded with a quick slice to her arm which she barely avoided. As the duel continued, Alanna felt herself heating up, both from the unseasonably warm Spring weather and from her own anger. She didn't want to be in this position. Sure, she and Alex had their differences...to put it lightly, but still, she didn't want to be here, fighting. And most definitely did not want to lose.

The duel continued, getting more heated by the second until they danced amid a blur of blows. Somehow Alex was everywhere, and Alanna barely able to counter him. This was _not_ how it was supposed to go. She watched his chest, trying to work out what he would do next. But he gave nothing way, and still that smirk remained on his face. He stabbed, once, twice, three times, putting her on the defensive. Finally, dodging a blow which came dangerously close to cutting her neck, Alanna was forced to back up a few steps. She had already tried switching sword hands, but that hadn't worked, and she had been through almost every sequence that she knew. Nothing got past Alex's guard. Then again, nothing Alex tried had gotten through hers either. Yet.

Finally, worn out and sweaty, Alanna spotted a breach in his defence. She rushed to disarm him but had forgotten the toll the fight had already taken on her. Like a snake, he moved out of the way as she was halfway through her lunge. Off-balance, she tripped and attempted to right herself. Even as she did this, Alex's sword snaked out and caught her a harsh blow on her side.

Alanna screamed, and fell heavily, her sword pinned beneath her. Gods, it had happened again. But this time the wound was a lot worse and there was no Coram or Myles to help her. She struggled desperately to retain consciousness but her head swam and her side was on fire.

"Alan? Oh dear gods! What have I done?" Alex's words echoed dimly around her numbed head but she didn't pay them much heed. Pain was creeping through her brain, making everything seem a blur.

As though from very far away she felt hands tugging at her and voices shouting. One stood out above the rest, "Stand back and give the lad some air. We're going to need to take that shirt off him if we want to get to the wound." It was Sir Gareth the younger, barking out orders as per usual.

Alanna nearly smiled at this thought until one thing he had said pierced her mind and made the blackness recede temporarily. _"We're going to need to take that shirt off him," _Oh no. Oh no no no. This was not good. Feebly she tried to struggle against the hands holding her, but her weak muscles wouldn't do what she told them. After a little tugging, her shirt came up and off her body to gasps of surprise.

"Mithros!" She felt rather than saw the people around her jump back at the sight of her bound breasts. "Alan…Alan's a girl!"

Even as uproar spread through the practice court Alanna, thankfully, receded into unconsciousness. Her last coherent thought was: _please let this all just be a dream._


	2. Telling Alanna

**Disclaimer**: Much as I wish I did, I do not own any of the characters or places in this story. They belong to Tamora Pierce.

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**Chapter Two**

Gareth of Naxen the younger, Raoul of Goldenlake and Jonathan of Conte sat around a chessboard in the suite of rooms Jonathan and Alanna shared. Jon had arrived back from hunting around an hour ago to find the door to Alanna's room barred and a lot of questions awaiting him. To calm himself down he was attempting to play chess with Gary but Gary had his mind on other things. Namely, the fact that Alan was a girl.

"So…Alan isn't Alan. He's Alanna?" Asked Gary in a speculative voice. His hands were linked behind the back of the chair and his eyes wandered over Jon's bookshelf. Jon fought back yet another fit of anger.

"Yes Gary. _She's_ a girl. _She's_ called Alanna. And it's your turn to move!" He replied heatedly. Inside he was seething with frustration at not being allowed to see Alanna and could do nothing but take it out on Gary. _Well he deserves it for being such an idiot_, Jon thought vindictively.

Gary of course paid no attention to the game. Instead, he leant forward to prop his chin on his cupped hands. "And you knew? He – she – told you?"

"Yes I knew. No, she didn't tell me. I found out. Did I mention that it's your turn to move?" Sensing that Gary was long gone, Jon got up and went over to where Raoul was sitting by the window on the other side of the room.

"Alan_na _has been dressing up as a boy for six years now, then. How come we never noticed?" Now it was Raoul's turn to ask the stupid questions.

"And to think, he – she – was such a good hand with a sword." Gary had gotten up and come over to join them. He shook his head in disbelief. "It still seems kind of strange to think of Alan as a girl."

Jon finally hit boiling point after nearly half an hour of these ridiculous comments and yelled at the top of his voice, "Gary! Will you just shut up and stop asking obvious questions! Yes, Alanna is a girl! Yes, she hid it from you. Yes, I knew. Happy now?"

"Well…yes. Quite. That explains a lot. I always knew there was something funny about our Alan." Gary said in a very self satisfied voice.

"You did not!" Raoul shoved Gary hard off his perch, more to stop his gloating than anything else.

"I did!"

"Enough!" Jon butted back into the conversation. "Neither of you mind then?"

"Mind what?" Both of them asked with blank expressions on their faces.

"That she's a girl, that's what."

"No of course not." Raoul replied at the same time Gary said, "Well maybe a little, but not much."

"Good, good. Now all we have to do is convince Sir Gareth that Alanna should stay and train to become a knight." Jon said grimly.

Both his friends nodded and he beckoned them close. It was time to begin planning.

* * *

Alanna woke up aching everywhere. Her muscles felt as though they had been turned to jelly and her head pounded loud enough to wake the dead. Through bleary eyes she could just make out a figure sitting by her bed. It was Jonathan.

"Jon?" She tried to speak to him but it came out more like a croak. For some reason he was shaking his head at her. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry Alanna. I couldn't stop them." He raised his eyes to meet hers and she could see a pitying expression in his face. "You're being sent back to Trebond as soon as you can walk."

"No…" Alanna couldn't believe it. Everything she had worked for in the last six years was gone, and all because of some stupid duel. Struggling to retain some semblance of control she blinked tears from her eyes. "Does everyone know?"

Jon simply nodded, there was no point lying to her now. With a muffled sob Alanna turned from Jon to face the wall. They'd all hate her now, for lying to them. Everything was ruined. Everything.

"Just, just leave me alone! Get out!" She didn't want him to witness her breaking down. Tears were welling and it was all she could do to contain them. Letting her anger build up, she propped herself on one elbow and grabbed the nearest thing to hand – a book.

When Jon hesitated before getting up, she chucked it at him. She was a good shot even when she was as weak as a new-born lamb. The book hit Jon in the middle of the forehead with a satisfying thwack and after that he hastened to leave the room.

Alanna felt the anger drain from her and collapsed back onto her pillow. The tears that had threatened now poured from her eyes and she made no effort to stop them. Instead, she curled herself into a tight ball and screamed until there was no breath left in her body.

* * *

From just outside Alanna's door, where he had been waiting with his ear pressed to the wood, Jon jumped back at the volume of her screaming. Shaking his head sadly he made his way to Gary's room. His knuckles were white with suppressed anger but there was nothing he could do. The conservatives had spoken. Alanna had gotten off lightly, though it probably didn't seem that way to her.

He sighed and made a small detour to the kitchens to grab a few bottles of was a time for getting drunk with his friends and trying to forget everything that had happened over the last two days. It was going to be no easy task.


	3. Leaving Corus

**Disclaimer**: Much as I wish I did, I do not own any of the characters or places in this story. They belong to Tamora Pierce.

Winky-wink asked me what pairings I was going to have in this fan-fiction. In answer to the question, I'm not really sure. Most of the story won't be set in Tortall which makes it hard for me to have any of the usual pairings. But there are definitely going to be some interesting new characters later, so I might choose one of them.

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**Chapter Three - Leaving Corus**

Two quiet knocks followed by another, louder one, woke Alanna. _Did I miss the bell,_ she thought sleepily, her mind still hazy. Attempting to sit up and swing her legs out of bed she discovered two things. One, her side was very painful and swaddled in bandages and two, her room looked strange. It took her a while to discover what was wrong but when she did, everything came rushing back.

In place of her usual mess, the room was neat and orderly and hanging on the chair instead of her usual clothes was a dress. A green dress with a full skirt split for riding and embroidered sleeves.

"What is that _thing_?" A horrified squeak emerged from her throat at the sight of it. Eleni had been trying to teach her the rudiments of being a lady but she wasn't quite there yet. More to the point, that was practice, fun, and this was, well, real. The dress was a symbol of everything that had gone wrong, of a future which appeared darker by the second. She was so absorbed that she didn't notice Duke Gareth of Naxen and Duke Baird enter her room.

"That _thing_, as you so aptly describe it, is your outfit for the day." Duke Gareth almost managed to hide his amusement but the corners of his mouth twitched. Alanna jumped at the sound of his voice and looked over, eyes wide with surprise.

Duke Baird ignored them both and strode purposely over to Alanna's bed. His voice was kind and his hands sure as he told her to lie down before taking the dressing from her wound. He checked it carefully for infection before grunting approval and redressing it.

"It'll heal up nicely. In fact, at the rate that it's healing, you should be fit for riding by tomorrow. I suspect your gift has been aiding it." Gazing sharply at Alanna, he added, "Did you know that you've been asleep for two days, young lady?"

Duke Gareth nodded solemnly in agreement, all mirth forgotten. "I'm sorry Alanna. You're one of the best trainees that we've had in a long time but" – he shrugged – "most of the nobles are outraged. Some were calling for your head. Luckily we managed to dissuade them of that notion very quickly."

Alanna shot him a quick smile; at least one person was on her side. Even if all her friends hated her for lying.

"With your permission, Duke Baird, we'll send her home tomorrow." He looked at Duke Baird, who nodded, and reached over to pat Alanna on the shoulder briefly. "I'll be sorry to see you go."

The two men looked at one another before turning to leave. "Goodbye Alanna, and good luck."

* * *

The morning of Alanna's departure from Corus dawned grey and dismal. A maid popped her head round the door to awake Alanna and help her get into her dress. It took a while but by the time the sun had fully risen, Alanna was bathed, fed and attired properly in clothes fitting her station. Through it, all she could think was:_ I hope nobody sees me. Please don't let anyone I know see me._

Stepping out of her room, she felt a twinge as the wound in her side complained. It wasn't too bad, though. More like a dull ache than the burning pain it had been two days ago. Alanna ignored it and continued down the corridor, heedless of the stares she was receiving from pages and squires alike. As she turned a corner she caught a glimpse of Raoul and Gary heading her way. _Oh no_, she thought, I_ can't let them see me like this. They probably already hate me for lying to them._

She backtracked and went another, lesser used, way. The maid assigned to her struggled to keep up with Alanna's unladylike pace. When they finally made it to where a coach was waiting, the maid was completely out of breath. Alanna ignored her and looked around for her horse, Moonlight.

"Where is my horse?" She asked a passing servant, imperiously. They were taking away her chance to become a knight, but she'd rot in hell before they took away her horse.

The servant gulped under her angry glare and visibly wilted. He was saved from having to answer by Stefan, the hostler, who arrived at that moment.

"Not to worry, miss. I though' you might be lookin' for Moonlight, so I took the liberty of saddling her m'self. She's over there behind the coach."

Alanna was overcome with emotion. Without saying a word she threw her arms around Stefan's neck and gave him a quick hug. Embarrassed, he fended her off and went beet red.

"Twas no trouble, miss. Also George sends his condolences. He's out o'town on business otherwise he'd be here 'imslef. We're all going to miss you down at the Dancing Dove."

"Thank you, Stefan." She told him as she wiped tears from her eyes. "Thank you."

* * *

As she climbed into the coach Alanna made a vow to herself. She would not be sent home like a lamb to the slaughter. No matter what it took, she would prove to everyone that girls could fight and deserved a chance.

She smoothed down her skirts and took one last look at the palace. It was resplendent, despite the grizzly weather. _One day I will come back here_, Alanna promised. _And when I do, it will not be as a convent trained lady. It will be as a fighter._ That said, she sat back and began to plan her escape.


	4. Two Inns and a Plan

**Disclaimer**: I own but two of these characters so far. The restbelong to Tamora Pierce and so does the world. Sniffle

To my reviewers: If I do have a pairing then I want it to be original and interesting. I shall strive to find the perfect person for Alanna! Yes, I shall!

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**Chapter Four - Two Inns and a Plan**

"Hey, Rel, you heard the gossip yet?" Alanna heard one of the two men guarding her shouting over to his companion. He sat on his horse like a sack of potatoes and seemed to sport a permanently sour expression.

"Shush yourself, you're disturbing the lady," hissed the other one, who had a face that rather resembled a tomato. He made an apologetic face at Alanna, who waved it aside. She didn't like to be cosseted and she'd have much preferred to be out there on Moonlight, gossiping with the guards, than alone in the carriage.

Once Tomato Face was certain that Alanna hadn't taken offence, he sidled over to Potato Sack. "So go on. Tell us the gossip, Sern. Has it got anything to do with the lady yonder?" Saying this, he jerked his head towards Alanna's carriage. Although Tomato Face _tried_ to speak quietly, his voice carried on the wind and Alanna was able to listen in with ease.

"Well, some of it does. There was a hell of a fuss made 'bout that one. Turns out Squire Alan was no boy – 'twas a girl."

Rel – Tomato Face – gasped, and his eyes looked about ready to pop out of their sockets. "You mean, she's the one they've all been talking about for the past few days?"

His companion nodded sagely, and sat back with a smug look on his face. "Uh-huh. An' that's not all. Supposedly, and I heard this from one of the servants as well, Duke Roger took the discovery pretty hard. She saw him stomping around muttering curses to himself. Said something about being fooled by a mere girl an' how he'd get his revenge."

"I dunno, Sern, it all sounds a bit risky to me."

"Nah, don't worry 'bout it, Rel. Duke Roger's too important to go chasing after high born ladies. Everthing'll be fine." Sern reached over to pat Rel's shoulder in a comforting way. The two of them moved apart and Alanna wasn't able to catch any more glimpses of conversation.

Duke Roger wanted revenge? She mulled it over in her mind, then chuckled. He was probably mad because the person he had thought to be his greatest adversary was, in fact, a girl. She would have to be on the look out for his men, just in case, she decided. But this new revelation didn't change anything; she was still going to escape.

* * *

The sun was at its highest point in the sky when they finally broke for lunch. Alanna found sitting in the carriage alone very boring, especially with nobody to talk to. Her guards stopped outside an inn called "The Flute and Harp" and Sern came over to help her down. Alanna, of course, shook him off and marched primly over to the inn.

"Hello, Miss." The innkeeper appeared immediately and came to hover over Alanna. "Would you care for a drink? Some lunch? We have the best pork in Tortall here. Mary! Show the Lady to a table, would you?"

Alanna was momentarily taken aback by his tirade, but recovered quickly as the waitress – Mary – ushered her to a table and poured her some wine. Seeing Sern and Rel hovering in the doorway, Alanna beckoned them over and fished in her purse for some money.

"Here. Take this and buy a drink for yourselves." She winked and handed over a silver coin. Their eyes lit and they took the money hastily.

"Thank you, Lady. Are you sure you'll be all right here?" Rel asked nervously. Alanna simply smiled and waved him off, trying her hardest to act like a regular lady of the court. She'd need to get her guards to trust her, if she was going to escape any time soon, and everybody knew that nothing won guards over like wine and pretty girls.

It seemed to work. Rel flashed her a smile before going to order wine with Sern. Alanna stifled a burst of laughter. This was going to be too easy. For the first time since she had been discovered, things were looking up. Tonight would be the night for her escape.

* * *

The day dragged on for Alanna. Every hour seemed to last a lifetime and the guards' banter got on her nerves. She had nothing to do; not even a book to read. When they finally stopped for the night – this time in an inn called "The Nightingale's Song" – she was ready to burst with anticipation.

This time she managed to drop her pride just long enough for Sern to help her down from the carriage. She gave them both some more money to go ahead and arrange rooms and food while she crept around to where the baggage was stowed. Inside her pack was Lightning – she had managed to hide it there just before they left. Alanna let out a small sigh of relief that it was still there and slid it back into the pack.

Entering the inn, she ate the food prepared for her quietly and drank a little wine. But after half an hour, she couldn't stand waiting any longer and excused herself, claiming a headache. She had left the guards with plenty of wine and had asked the innkeeper to keep them supplied. By midnight, hopefully, they would have drunk enough that she would be able to leave with no one the wiser.


	5. Escaping Isn't Always Fun

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of these characters except a very few extras. The main characters, the places and the world belongs to Tamora Pierce, much as I wish it belonged to me.

Hey guys, sorry it's been a while since I last updated but I was away for Christmas and New Years. Hope everyone had a really great time.

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**Chapter Five**

Alanna crept over the room's wooden floor to the door, which stood ajar. Slowly and carefully, she opened the door and peeked through. There was no one around. She eased out onto the landing and made her way down the inn's main stairs. One step creaked alarmingly as she was coming down, but nobody noticed - or if they did, they didn't make anything of it. She heaved a sigh of relief.

Once in the stables Alanna checked to make sure that the stable boy was still asleep. He was - his deep, even breathing revealed that much and the happy grin on his face suggested peaceful dreams. Grabbing Moonlight's tack from where it was hanging, Alanna went over and saddled her horse. Moonlight whickered sleepily at her in confusion; getting woken up in the middle of the night is enough to confuse any horse.

"Don't worry, girl. We're off to find adventure." Alanna whispered at her, feeling light-headed and free. Over at the carriage, she grabbed her saddlebags and Lightning. Gods, it felt good to have a sword at her side again. One last look around to make sure nobody had noticed her leave the inn and she was off. Alanna kicked Moonlight and together they trotted out of the inn's gates.

The road was ahead of them and for the first half-hour Alanna didn't check to make sure that they were going the right way, she was so exhilarated. Finally she calmed down enough to attempt to take her bearings. Luckily, she was still on the road. From here she knew that if she turned south, she would reach a small port. And after that, who knew. For once in her life, Alanna had no schedules to stick to, nobody to tell her where to go or what to do, and no duties or obligations. It was a wonderful feeling - being able to do exactly what she wanted, when she wanted.

"What do you think, Moonlight? Where shall we go? The copper isles? No. How about Maren, or maybe Sarain? Women can be warriors in Sarain, among the K'miri tribes. Yes. That's where we'll go. Come on, girl! We're off to find adventure!" Alanna thought aloud. She veered Moonlight's head around and took off down a small track through the forest.

* * *

After riding all night, Alanna wasn't feeling quite as enthusiastic as she had when she had left the inn. She was tired, cold and hungry and to top it all off it was starting to rain. She'd even managed to forget her flint, so there would be no fire to warm her. What she did have was some dried meat, biscuits, a water bottle, Lightning, a little grain for Moonlight and a small knife.

Alanna glared at the world. This wasn't how things were supposed to have gone. Right now, she was supposed to be warming her feet by a fire while some meat was roasting. Aromatic smells should be drifting around her at this very moment and her mouth should be watering. But no. Instead she sat in the mulch, under a tree, feeling thoroughly miserable. Alanna started to drift into a hazy dream, in which food was the main participant.

She had just about convinced herself that she was fed and warm when crunching twigs and raised voices brought her mind back to the present. Tensing, she tried her hardest not to move. What if it was her guards, come to find her? She didn't want to have to hurt them - they'd been nice to her.

"What did the Duke say then?" Alanna breathed a quick sigh of relief when the voice belonged to neither of her guards.

"He said we was to grab the girl when she and her guards left the inn this morning." A low bass voice answered the first, higher one.

"Oh. But she didn't appear this morning. She did a runner, didn't she?" The higher one asked, obviously confused and a little frightened.

The older - or so Alanna assumed - man sighed and spoke in a gentle voice, "Yes. So now we have to find her, alright?"

"I - I guess so."

"Good. Now, you go that way and I'll go this way and we'll meet up in around half an hour. If you get into any trouble or find her, shout for me." The sound of footsteps receded into the distance. Alanna stayed very, very still.

They were looking for her. And, from what she'd heard, Duke Roger had ordered this. At least, she couldn't think of any other Dukes with a grudge against her. One of them was still around so she was going to have to move fast. Alanna looked for Moonlight only to realize that she had wandered over to the other side of the clearing.

"Psst. Moonlight, come here girl." Alanna called quietly. Moonlight either didn't hear or ignored her call, as she didn't show a sign of moving.

As she heard the remaining man move her way, she stood. As she rose, she noticed a branch pricking into her back. That's it, she thought suddenly, I'll climb into the tree. Without pausing to think the idea through, she turned around and reached for the first branch. In moments she was perched at the top of the tree, among the leaves.

After a few minutes wait the man appeared. He was large with a bald head and meaty fists. Alanna was thankful to be in her tree and not down there on the ground. She didn't fancy her chances in a fistfight with him, not with her height. At first she couldn't see his face until he happened to peer up at the sun. Surprisingly enough, he had a childish face - all puppy fat and big blue eyes. But his eyes held a menacing gleam and his skin was marred with scars and cuts.

Immediately he spotted Moonlight, where she was grazing and hurried over to her. After checking her over he checked the bushes around the clearing but they yielded nothing to his piercing glare. Alanna barely breathed, hoping against hope that he would lose interest and move away. The man looked to be doing just that until he turned suddenly and stared straight at her.

"Come down out of that tree, Alanna of Trebond. Don't make me come and get you."


	6. Roger's Plot

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters except a very few extras. The main characters, the places and the world belongs to Tamora Pierce, much as I wish it belonged to me.**

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**Chapter Six - Roger's Plot**

Alanna tensed and went over her options. If she stayed in the tree he'd come and get her, and she didn't think she would be able to climb across the canopy to get away. He was bigger and likely faster than she was so running for it wouldn't accomplish anything, and, besides, she still had to think of Moonlight. That meant the only option left was to try and fight her way out. She had Lightning didn't she? And she was good, very good. There was still a small chance she might beat the man.

"Hurry up, Alanna. I'm waiting. You have to the count of three."

However slim her chances, she was going to have to take them. It was that or wait up in the tree for him to come and get her. Not a pleasing prospect.

"1."

She made up her mind and started to feel for the branch next to her. It had been so much easier to get up than down.

"2."

"I'm coming! Can't you see that you imbecile!"

Finally making it to the ground, Alanna whipped out Lightning and readied herself for battle; her feet firmly apart and her legs slightly bent. She watched her opponent who, although appearing surprised at first, suddenly started to laugh. She knew what was going through his head; she was small and a girl, how could she possibly put up a good fight even if she had been trained? But she'd show him. Just like she'd shown the palace.

"Put the sword down, girlie, and I promise I'll be gentle. I don't want to hurt you too much, just have a little fun and deliver you to some friends of mine." He grimaced apologetically, "It's orders from the Duke himself. Though I won't deny that I do get a little pleasure out of it myself."

For a response, Alanna summoned up a large gob of fluid and spat it onto the ground between them. A clear enough message for anybody to understand. "Come and get me, Fatso!" She exclaimed bravely.

Still chuckling he pulled a small club from his belt – wooden and about the length of Alanna's forearm – and hefted it. Alanna stayed in her spot, she really was going to make him come and get her. They stared at each other for a moment, testing to see whose patience would snap first. His blue eyes met her violet ones and after a moment he shrugged almost imperceptibly and took one deliberate step forward. That was the only signal Alanna needed to begin moving herself. She paced sideways, hoping to get closer to Moonlight in case she needed a quick escape.

Watching his chest for muscle contractions, she predicted his next move and dodged sideways to avoid it, at the same time moving inside his guard. Before he had time to wrench the club around, she managed to score a shallow cut on his stomach and danced away. He gasped slightly with pain but kept on coming, raining blow after blow down on her. Most she avoided but she was forced to block one of two and they turned her arm to mush.

_He may not be fast but he has a lot of brute force_, she thought to herself. She was tiring faster than he was, but that was mainly attributed to the amount of dodging she was doing. If she wanted to get away, she'd better get to Moonlight fast.

Feinting to the left of his great bulk, Alanna made sure that she was near Moonlight before turning around and running for it. She had gone no more than a couple of paces when she felt her body fail and her vision go black and at the same time, her head exploded.

* * *

"Um…how long till the girl wakes up?" A thin reedy voice punctured Alanna's brain and she had to struggle hard not to groan. Her head pounded and her hands felt odd. When she tried to move, she realised that they were tied behind her back. And that she was lying on her side on some kind of wood. Very carefully, Alanna twitched open one eye to find herself in a small wagon. So small, in fact, that she took up most of the space, which didn't often happen.

She tried to move but stopped after hearing more voices coming from outside the cart. She might as well gather as much information about why she was here as possible. Alanna knew it had something to do with Duke Roger but the details still eluded her.

"Shouldn't be too much longer, give her about twenty minutes before checking." She recognised that voice as the voice of the man who had captured her.

How had he done it? She thought back to the event, and judging by the pain that emanated in waves from the back of her scalp, figured he'd thrown his club at the back of her head. She'd misjudged him and that had cost her her freedom. Well, it wouldn't happen again. Alanna was firm on that point, at least.

"Alright." The younger man hesitated before asking, "The Duke. Is he going to meet us personally or are we just to hand her over?"

Deep voice sighed before replying. It was obvious that the younger man's questions irritated him. "He's going to meet us outside Tyra – he wants to speak to her, though I don't see what good that'll do – and then we're to hand her over by the "Merry Dancers". It shouldn't take us too long to get there, maybe a couple of weeks, and it's good money so don't start complaining."

"Yes, boss." Came the reply, slightly resentful.

"And don't take that tone with me! You're lucky to be here and don't you forget it."

"Yes, boss."

"Insolent sod."

Alanna stopped listening at that point and devoted herself to flexing her muscles, one at a time. None seemed strained and the hurt on her head was receding. Over all, she thought she was in pretty good shape and she was going to try her hardest to stay that way. It wasn't over yet. And Alanna wasn't the type to admit defeat easily.


	7. Escape?

**Disclaimer**: Much as I wish I did, I do not own any of the characters or places in this story. They belong to Tamora Pierce.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Escape?**

At some point during the journey, Alanna had fallen asleep. Her dreams were restless and filled with visions of escape and freedom. Sometimes she found herself in bed, arms wrapped around a familiar chest. Turning she would look into Jon's face, fall into his eyes. Other times, it was George Cooper, King of Thieves, who shared her bed. Those dreams were disquieting. She couldn't quite shake the feeling that she would never see either of them again. She thought about what might have been, if that stupid Alexander of Tirrigan hadn't cut the bindings on her breatsts. She would be back in Corus, training with the other boys, laughing, joking… she drifted off again, only to be woken hours later by a painful jolt of the wooden box she was lying in.

Angrily she kicked its side. A thump answered her.

"Quiet in there, missy. Don't you worry, it'll only be another week or so, and then we can all be rid of each other. Lucky for you, we're making better time than expected." He laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound.

A week! Alanna couldn't stand the thought of being cooped up in this box for a whole week. She would lose muscle tone. She would lose hope. She'd damn well lose her mind.

As if reading her thoughts, the rough voice came again. "Ah, it's not so bad. We'll let you out…now and then." Laughter came again, full and uninhibited. Alanna wanted to strike her captors for doing this to her. When she escaped she'd hunt Duke Roger to the ends of Tortall and strangle him with pleasure. But first she had to escape. She checked the box she was lying in, as far as she was able, since she could barely move her limbs in the confined space. But it was airtight, hard wood, with only a few cracks here and there to let light and oxygen in.

She sighed and tried to think of the positives. At least she wasn't bound. And by the sounds of it, Moonlight was still with her. She could hear her fighting their captors behind the wagon. She would learn patience, because eventually, patience would bring its own rewards.

* * *

It was dark by the time they stopped. By the sounds of it, they hadn't yet reached civilisation. Alanna couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not. A hand rapped on the top of her box.

"I'm gonna let you out now, missy. None of that funny business, or it's straight back into the box. You hear me?"

Alanna put on her best little girl's voice. "Yes, sir. Please let me out. You see, it's dark and cold in here and I'm frightened."

The best thing to do, she had decided during her long wait for release, was to appear as harmless as possible. That way the guards would be unsuspecting when she finally worked out a way to escape.

A dim voice came, as if from far away. "You hear that, Tomas? She's frightened. Our little lion of Corus is frightened. Ha! Didn't expect that one, did I? Not at all…" He drifted off into silence, obviously contented with himself and his apparent ability to put the fear of Mithros into his captive.

Alanna noted that the other guard, Tomas, didn't reply. She wasn't sure whether this was because he was generally a silent man, or because he disapproved of the way the hulking brute of a man keeping her captive was treating her. She hoped it was the latter.

Eventually, there came sounds of creaking and the top of the box was prized off and she was free, blessedly free. The night was chilly and her sudden immersion from the stifled heat of her confinement into open air gave her goose bumps. Moreover, the first sight that greeted her was a large, leering face that looked rather like a few lumps of clay which had been haphazardly thrown together. And his breath…it didn't bear thinking about. But really, none of that mattered. She was free. She took deep, rewarding breaths and looked around her with seemingly innocent eyes.

Steeling herself into her new role, she looked at her captor, trying to appear frightened and shy. "Thank you," she said, looking up at him through the tips of her lashes. "I'm real sorry about earlier. I thought you were going to kill me." Alanna made her bottom lip wobble._ Bless you George Cooper,_ she thought._ If for nothing else, then for teaching me how to lie_. She was going to need it.

Her captor looked taken aback and glanced at his fellow. Alanna's gaze was drawn too and she took a quick breath of surprise. He wasn't uncouth. Or ugly. Or old. Or fat. In fact, he was surprisingly…lovely. He was young, a couple of years older than her she guessed, and trim, with a heart shaped face and tousled brown hair. Not at all what she had expected. Then again, she wasn't really in a situation to be expecting anything.

The other one, the ugly, big one, pulled her roughly out of the box. Alanna's legs wobbled as she hit the ground. He looped a rope around one of her wrists then tied the other end to his own. "Better safe than sorry," he said, and gave her a grotesque leer.

Alanna did her best not to vomit. She smiled again. There would be no chance of escape tonight. But eventually, her captors would relax, and then she'd be out of there faster than they could say Mithros!


	8. Plans and Plots

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the characters, places, or original story, much as I wish I did. They belong to Tamora Pierce.

* * *

**Plans and Plots**

They didn't give her much for dinner, only a thin bowl of stew, a hunk of bread so hard she was afraid it would break her teeth, and a small cup of water. She looked plaintively at the food before her. _How am I going to keep my strength up on this?_ She wondered, hope fading before her.

They were camped in a small clearing just off a forest path. Alanna had know idea where she was, despite her training in Tortall's geography back in Corus. She felt lost, and cold, and unhappy, her wrist still tied to the man with the face like clay.

As if hearing her thoughts he turned towards and gave her another leer. "Eat up, girly. You're not getting any more and if you don't eat it…I will." He laughed and nudged his companion, whose name she had learned was Tomas, who brooded silently next to him.

The low burning fire lit his face intensely. Alanna found herself studying him. Maybe he could help her. He definitely didn't seem as happy with the situation as the other one was. And there was something about him, something sharp and still, which caught her interest. He looked over at her as well and she widened her eyes with hope. But he gave her a small, imperceptible shake of his head. Or was that just her imagination? After so long stuck in a box with just her own thoughts for company, it was hard to tell.

After eating her meagre food, she decided that it was time for some answers.

"Where…where are you taking me?" She asked.

The older man replied gruffly. "Port Legann. Duke Roger's orders."

"But what will you do with me there?"

"He's meeting us. He'll decide what to do with you. If it were up to me…" He turned towards her and ran a hand up her exposed shin, grinning. His meaning was clear in his glazed eyes. He'd obviously had too much to drink. God damned her Mithros forsaken dress, thought Alanna, unkindly. If she'd still been in breeches none of this would have happened. Her fear must have shown on her face for Tomas laid a hand on his companion's arm.

"No, Scart. Not tonight. Duke Roger wants this one unharmed. And in one piece."

Scart gave a long, deliberate sly and removed his hand, but not before shooting her another glance.

"Aye, I suppose you're right. I just didn't expect our lady squire to look so beddable."

Tomas gave him an cold look. Alanna felt some small modicum of hope bubble up in her. She was safe, at least for now. At least until Tyra, and hopefully then… well, then was then, and now was now, and for now she was going to get some sleep.

* * *

A furore was taking place at the same time, back in Corus, in Jonathan of Conte's bedroom. He'd been having supper with Gary when the message arrived. Gary intercepted it, having decided that tonight, nothing, and he really did mean nothing, was going to spoil their evening.

But as he read the message his face turned grey, then white, then…sort of purplish-red. Jon sat by in idle amusement. What had Gary got himself into this time? But then Gary shoved the letter into his hands and something changed inside him. He felt his heart breaking with every word and by the time he was done he sank his hands into his head.

"Get Raoul," he said. "And keep this quiet. Don't let anyone know."

Gary nodded silently, his usual light and mirth gone and hurried from the room. Jon leaned forward in his chair, rocking slightly. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe it would happen. She was supposed to be safe, albeit angry, but safe at home. Not…he gave a shudder. He couldn't bear to think of where she was. It hurt too much.

Minutes later the door slammed open.

"What, pray tell, is the meaning of this?" Exclaimed Raoul as he shouldered his bulk into the room. "Alanna's been what? Kidnapped? This has got to be a joke."

"Sit down."

They sat, the three of them, thinking back to a simpler time when Alanna had been Alan and wouldn't go swimming with them because she was too scared. Or when they'd sat in this very same room in disbelief at the fact she had breasts. But now, now there were no words.

Abruptly, Raoul stood up. "We have to do something."

"I agree," Gary chimed in.

"There's nothing we can do," said Jon. "My father would never agree to it."

Raoul turned a strange shade of fuscia and paced the room in anger. "What the hell do you mean by that? I mean, by Mithros, Alan… Alanna's been kidnapped. And we don't know where they're taking him…her…and we don't know where they're going and he could…she could end up…dead."

"Yes, but father isn't going to send half the army after a girl who pretended to be a boy who may or may not have been kidnapped or who may have just run away. You saw the letter. She was gone from the inn. Then they found a sign of struggle. So she ran away before she was kidnapped. And there's no trail. Who'd follow something like that?"

"I would." A quiet voice emerged from the corner of the room. The three young men looked around in surprise to see someone sitting there, obscured by the shadows. "In the name of all the gods and every aspect of hell, I would."

It was George. Jon didn't know whether he'd ever felt more relieved to see him, or whether it was just lightheadedness.

Gary opened his arms expansive. "Then come, and join our band of merry men. We've got a girl to get." His eyes twinkled and his face was flushed. Now this was more like it.


	9. Onwards and Upwards

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the lands nor the characters of this story. That honour belongs to Tamora Pierce.

* * *

**Onwards and Upwards**

They set off the next day. Jon, Gary, Raoul, and George. Not the most likely band of travellers, but a competent one nonetheless. Unlike the other two, Gary had accepted George into their company with unrivalled cheerfulness. He slapped George on the back heartily as they stomped through Corus, dreaming up encounters with shapely barmaids they would meet on their rescue mission.

"She'll give me a wink," he mimed a wink, "just like that, you see? And I'll know exactly what she means and she'll take my hand and lead me off into a back room…" He drifted off in appreciation of his own musings.

Raoul rode on the end of the line, silent. He was brooding over the implications of their rescue mission, trying to decide whether he should convince Jon to stay at the palace. Lord knows, the King and Queen wouldn't be happy about their only son leaving Corus on a harebrained mission to rescue a discredited squire. Let alone a squire who'd turned out to be a girl. He, himself, still couldn't quite come to terms with the idea that Alan was, in fact, Alanna. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts and looked over at his best friend, the heir to Tortall. One look at Jon's down turned mouth and determined expression convinced him that now was not the time to bring up his return to the palace.

Jon had reason to be worried. He knew that Alanna had made as many enemies as friends while she was in Corus. And he worried which of those enemies had chosen now, of all times now, to kidnap her. Admittedly she was probably worth a hefty ransom. But it didn't seem like that was what her kidnappers intended. Otherwise there would have been a note, a sign, something! It just didn't make sense. And then there were those other thoughts, those crafty, conniving thoughts that worked their way into his brain and wouldn't leave. Her unbound chest, her shirt ripped open, her… he let his thoughts wonder off. Ever since Jon had found out that Alan was a girl, ever since they'd kissed last year, he hadn't been able to think of her the same way. That kiss haunted his every waking hour, crept silently into his dreams. He felt something…new. Different. And it bothered him. Not to mention George's companionship on this little trip of theirs. He liked George, but while these new feelings remained uncomfortably lodged in his chest, he didn't want him around. George was Alanna's best friend, better even, perhaps, than Jon himself. And the thought of them together made Jon unreasonably angry. He heaved a sigh for himself and pushed his thoughts away. First they had to rescue Alanna. Then he could worry about what those feelings meant.

Halfway between the palace and the city gates, George halted his horse. "Alright, lads. I'm as up for this adventuring lark as any of you. But before we go, I need to make a pit-stop."

Gary rounded on him, his previous amusement turned, in a flash to anger. "A pit-stop? Alan…Alanna's out there, somewhere, kidnapped, and you want to make a pit-stop?!"

Raoul placed a calming hand on his arm. "Now, Gary. I'm sure Master Cooper has a reason."

"Reason my arse…" But Gary's anger died away under the combination of Raoul and Jon's implacable stares.

George turned his horse off the main road and into a seedy side street. "Now, gentlemen, if you'll just follow me…"

The others looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. They had no choice but to follow.

* * *

On the road the next day, her captors let Alanna out of the box. She was still attached to Scart by a rope tied to both of their wrists, but she was allowed to ride Moonlight and experienced comparative freedom. All in exchange for the promise of "no funny business."

What that funny business could be she had no idea, bound and guarded as she was. Alanna, untrue to her nature, was beginning to lose hope. But sometime in the afternoon, when Scart went off into the woods to relieve himself during one of their numerous stops, Alanna was left alone with Tomas.

He looked over at her shiftily, his expression wary.

Alanna studied him then decided to probe. She stretched extravagantly and then ostentatiously rubbed her wrist, anxious to see the reaction she would create. Tomas looked over at her with something like concern.

She continued with the charade, pouting a little, letting her eyes well up. The guard came closer.

"Please, sir, it's just that the rope chafes so much…"

He was almost within reach, creeping forwards. He was young and impressionable and all that was working against him, stirring kinder emotions than it should do.

"And I'm so very frightened…"

Alanna continued her monologue without paying much attention to what she was saying. She was focused on two things: one, listening for sounds that Scart might be coming back, and two, the distance between her hand and the sword in Tomas' belt. He came closer. And that was his biggest mistake. Letting loose a sudden grin, Alanna sprang forward and grabbed for the sword. Feeling her hand connect with the hilt, she whipped it out of its sheaf and deftly sliced the rope around her wrist, at the same time jumping backwards, sword held out ready to defend herself.

Tomas' expression was dumbfound. Then, realising what she had done, he began to look stern. "Now, now, Alanna, no trouble. Just give me the sword and nothing bad will happen to you." He was talking to her like she was a little puppy. She looked at him with contempt then ran in the opposite direction, towards Moonlight.

As Alanna vaulted into the saddle and kicked Moonlight into a gallop, she heard Scart's angry shout behind her.

"She's getting away! Mithros, she's getting away! How could you let this happen, you fool boy. Well? After her!"

Then the sounds of pursuit was lost and Alanna was gloriously, unashamedly free.


	10. East

**Disclaimer**: Much as I wish I did, I do not own any of the characters or places in this story. They belong to Tamora Pierce.

* * *

**East**

Uncomfortably wedged into a small thicket she had found, Alanna took stock, weighing her options. She was wet, bedraggled, and cold. Soon after her escape the heavens had opened and rain poured down. She rode through the torrent for hours, aware that it was as much help as hindrance as it would hide her tracks and prevent her captors from following her. A long time after the sounds of pursuit had disappeared behind her, her fear abated, and she began to look around for somewhere to rest and recuperate. This had been the best she could find. And it was a shoddy and uncomfortable best at that.

Outside her small sanctuary, Moonlight was grazing. Keeping the horse made her stick out like a sore thumb. But she couldn't bring herself to send her away. Not that she would go. Girl and horse were bound together. Moonlight would never abandon her. Alanna sighed. So, at least she had a means of transport. That was a plus. But it seemed heavily outweighed by all the negatives. She was in a dress. _A dress_. More to the point, she was in a torn, wet dress which clung to her and left some parts uncomfortably bare. Not ideal travelling attire. Her bag had been left with the cart and her captors so she had little food, only the small amount which had been left in Moonlight's saddle bags. She did, however, still have Lightning, which was a blessing. She didn't know what she would have done without that sword.

So, she had a sword, a horse, and her wits. It wasn't much, but it was something.

For a moment, Alanna considered giving up. Just lying down and letting the elements claim her. But that wasn't something she was ready to do. Or, she could turn around and go home, making her way slowly and painfully back to Corus or to Trebond. She could imagine the looks on her friends faces. In her dreams they were elated, happy she was back, ready to forget and forgive and to move on. She would be allowed to resume her training of Jon's squire. Or, at least, she might be allowed to remain in Corus, temporarily staying with George's mother, Eleni, until she could get back on her feet. She supposed that being sent back to Trebond wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. After all, Lord Alan was gone now, and Thom would never pressure her into living a life she despised.

But they were only dreams. The reality, she thought, would be far worse. She would be faced with disgust, or at best, pity. She would be sent home in disgrace, her friends would disown her, her brother would be forced by the court to send her away, perhaps to a cloister, to seclusion. She'd never seen Jon again, or George, never laugh at one of Gary's jokes, or hide in the corner at a party with Raoul. George might try to help her, but no one could challenge the king.

She couldn't go back. Not yet. Not until she had made a name for herself, had distinguished herself in such a way that she could earn back the respect of her peers. And there was only one place in the world she could think of where that might happen. Sarain. So it was east, then. By land or by sea, alone in her travels. East.

* * *

Despite their protestations, George led his band of merry men off the main road and down a small, almost imperceptible, track in the forest. Eventually, as the sun was just beginning to set, they emerged into a clearing, at the centre of which was a small inn, with a sign which read "The Rose and Crown".

He turned and looked back at their faces. Raoul and Gary appeared thoughtful but wary, while Jon was staring at him open mouthed, his brows lowered ominously.

"This is our pit-stop? You've decided to halt our quest, take us away from the road which could, potentially, lead to Alanna, delay us by several hours, and all for...a pub? Are you serious?"

George let his mouth quirk just a little. "Deadly."

Jon made to get off his horse, presumably so he could drag George off his, but Raoul put a hand on his shoulder to restrain him. He cocked his head at George. "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that there is a reason," he looked at Jon, "a very good reason, for this?"

"And you would be entirely right to do so. Come on." George vaulted down and led his horse over to the small stable by the side of the inn, handing the reins over to an open-mouthed stable boy. "Now, that horse had better still be here when I get back. Understand me?"

The boy nodded and led the horse inside. With a sigh the others dismounted and did likewise, before following George into the pub.

"George? George Cooper? Is that you?" A buxom woman in a low-cut dress came marching over to them. Raoul did his best to close his mouth, which had opened at the sight of her rather robust clevage, but not before Gary noticed and elbowed him in the side with a smirk.

George made as if to bow but before he had a chance to complete his movement a hand flew across his cheek, leaving behind a small red patch. He chuckled, his mirthful eyes bright and watchful. "Now, now, Kitty, is that any kind of welcome for an old friend?"

"An old friend you may be, and the Rogue too, but that does not excuse your behaviour, George Cooper, nor what happened last time you came here!"

Gary leaned over and whispered into Raoul's ear, "What happened last time, do you reckon? A fight? Or did our fine friend here just happen to stick his nose in the wrong honey-pot?"

"I can hear you," growled George.

Kitty was staring at him, hands on hips. He turned and looked at her gravely. "Kitty. I understand why you might be...annoyed with me, and I will make that up to you, I promise. But right now, I'm not here in any official capacity, nor am I here to cause trouble. I need help. I could order you to help me, but we've been friends for a long time and I'd rather not mix friendship and politics. So, here is what I need..."


	11. Interlude

**Disclaimer**: Much as I wish I did, I do not own any of the characters or places in this story. They belong to Tamora Pierce.

* * *

**Interlude**

Kitty's demeanour changed instantly. Turning around, she clapped twice and suddenly there were waitresses escorting them through the inn's main room and into a private one at the back. The men were seated, wine was brought, food was delivered, and a fire lit.

"Well this is nice," commented Gary. The others remained silent. Despite the warm reception and comfortable chairs, the room was charged with emotion.

George sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Kitty came over and sat next him, taking one of his hands in hers. "Come on now, tell us what's wrong. This isn't like you."

"How much do you know about what's going on at court at the moment?"

"Enough. News travels fast, even in a backwater place like this. I assume we're talking about the girl?"

He nodded unhappily. A frown creased Kitty's face as she contemplated his. "It's not that bad. Got sent home, am I right? I mean...may not be what the lass wants, but she's a noble. They're like cats. Always land on their feet."

A brief smile flickered. "And that would be exactly right except for one teeny, tiny problem."

"Oh?"

"She's gone. Missing."

"Oh."

"Exactly. Now it could just be that she's run away, gone to ground somewhere. She's a smart girl, she could do that. The thing is, I've had no news of her. None. If she'd gone anywhere near a city, or even anywhere vaguely populated, I would have heard about it by now. I've had my feelers out and they've come back with nothing. Add that to the fact that her guards found a sign of struggle, and I think we've got ourselves a damsel in distress." He cocked his head to the side.

"Well, she's not exactly a typical damsel," Raoul interjected. "She's a squire and a damned good one at that."

"Yeah. If she heard you saying that she'd box your ears right here and now." Gary's eyes unfocused and he smiled, "I can see it now. George Cooper, King of Thieves, the Rogue, beaten up by a girl."

"Ouch. I can already feel the bruises." George grinned but the mirth quickly faded. "Alright, she's not really a damsel, and for all we know she may not be in distress. But a terrible wrong has been done to her and it's our job," he looked around, "all of our job, to find her and set it right."

"And you are telling me this why?" Asked Kitty.

"Because you, my dear wench, are the only person in Tortall who has their fingers in more pies than me. I need your little birdies, I need to know what they've heard, 'cause I've exhausted mine."

Kitty stood suddenly and nodded. "Okay. You - " She pointed accusatory fingers at all of them " - go upstairs and get into bed. You're white, the lot of you. Fat load of good you'll do if you collapse from exhaustion while trying to save your friend."

For the first time Jon made as if to speak, his sapphire eyes showing his resentment at being treated like a small child. He was, after all, the heir to the throne. "Bu-"

Kitty's finger moved implacably over him. "Oh no you don't laddy. You are going to bed now, if I have to drag you there myself."

Jon's mouth worked for a while. Finally, "Do you kno-"

"Who you are? Course I do. I ain't stupid. Now, it's late, you're tired, and I need peace and quiet while I contact my men. I should have some answers for you tomorrow. Maybe." She turned and headed to the door. "Night lads. Your girl will be alright. From what I hear, she's a very capable young lady. By the time you find her, she'll probably be perfectly fine. She may even resent you for coming."

With those confusing words, she left, and the four men made their way to bed.

* * *

At that precise moment in time, Alanna was not fine. She was still cold and getting colder as the night grew ever more dark. But as the light grew dimmer and her extremities began to numb, the fire in her heart only grew stronger. She was not fine, but she would persevere. No, she would thrive. She had always survived, always gotten through things, always come out the other end stronger, better, more honed. These thoughts were a mantra which she repeated throughout the night.


End file.
